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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28139637">Ghost</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/BisexualNerd/pseuds/BisexualNerd'>BisexualNerd</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>ADHD or Autistic, Angst, But this focuses mostly on Dick and Jason, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Mental Breakdown, Sensory Overload, The Batkids are Good Siblings, Tim Drake Gets a Hug, Tim Drake Has Mental Health Issues, Tim Drake Needs a Break, Tim Drake Needs a Hug, Tim Drake is Neurodivergent, Tim Drake-centric, but like, my pick is ADHD since I'm ADHD, only mild, seasonal depression, you pick</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 00:13:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,014</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28139637</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/BisexualNerd/pseuds/BisexualNerd</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>There is a ghost in the hallway…<br/>In the bathroom, in the kitchen…<br/>In his room.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>  <em>There is a ghost lingering at the doorstep…<br/>On the staircase…<br/>In his bed.</em></p><p>  <em>There is a ghost…</em></p><p>-------------------------------</p><p>Rate T for cursing mostly.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Cassandra Cain &amp; Tim Drake, Tim Drake &amp; Alfred Pennyworth, Tim Drake &amp; Damian Wayne, Tim Drake &amp; Dick Grayson, Tim Drake &amp; Duke Thomas, Tim Drake &amp; Jason Todd</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>82</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Ghost</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I know it's Christmas/holidays season but since my country doesn't celebrate Christmas traditionally so it's kinda irrelevant here. Hell, I even forgot it was a week before Christmas when I started writing this fic. So enjoy this out-of-holidays-season fic, I guess.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>There is a ghost in the hallway…</em>
</p><p>
  <em>In the bathroom, in the kitchen…</em>
</p><p>
  <em>In his room.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>There is a ghost lingering at the doorstep…</em>
</p><p>
  <em>On the staircase…</em>
</p><p>
  <em>In his bed.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>There is a ghost…</em>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The ghost is…weird. It doesn’t do much except for staring at the messy board on the wall, or staring at the too-bright screen in the corner of his room. Or just staring in general.</p><p>The ghost doesn’t eat much. It should feel odd that a ghost needs to eat, but it’s the truth. But some people are concerning and trying to make the ghost eat. </p><p>The ghost stays awake for too long, and then falls unconscious in such strange places. The boys in the house once caught the ghost sleeping on the kitchen counter, and the girl caught it in the cupboard as well. The oldest man found it behind the curtain of the ballroom, and another man was startled by its presence next to his door.</p><p>The ghost doesn’t make much noise when it moves around. It can be light as a feather, or a breeze, comes and goes quickly and as soundless as possible. Sometimes the people in the house can just easily miss the sight of it. But they still know where it is most of the time.</p><p>But sometimes oh so rare, the ghost disappears.</p><p> </p><p>(Only metaphorically though.)</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Dick, the oldest of the siblings, almost jumps five feet in the air when he feels something brushing his back.</p><p>“Fuck!” He whirls around, his hands holding the plate of dessert close to his chest. “Timmy! You scared me!”</p><p>“Sorry.” The younger boy shrugs, tired eyes staring at the bowl of soup on the table.</p><p>Dick quickly puts the dessert plate down and holds his brother by the shoulders.</p><p>“Sit down and eat something. I haven’t seen you out of the room since last night.”</p><p>“Was in my room.”</p><p>Which has been locked until now. Not even Alfred could get into the teen’s room to force him to eat something. Dick picks up that bowl of soup and places it in front of Tim. He just thinks it would be better if Tim eats something not too solid for his stomach first. He’s willing to bet that Tim hasn’t eaten much since yesterday.</p><p>“Eat.”</p><p>“Okay. I’m kinda hungry anyway.” Okay phew. He doesn’t want to fight Tim right now to make him eat.</p><p>Most of the family have finished with their dinner already. They tried to call Tim down for dinner, as well as placing a tray in front of his door. Dick’s guesses would be Tim ignoring the tray and coming down here instead. Which is good. At least he can keep an eye on his brother.</p><p>Tim manages to eat most of the soup. Dick decides to push his luck and hands the teen a bowl of mashed potato. His brother looks at him with mistrust in his eyes but doesn’t question it. He’s got half of the bowl into his stomach.</p><p><em> Good. </em> Dick thinks. <em> Let’s see… </em></p><p>A glass of fresh orange juice and some ice cream. Blueberry flavoured, one of Tim’s favourites.</p><p>“Do you want to go to the living room, or do you want to finish it here?”</p><p>“Here.” And the kid starts to eat the ice cream.</p><p>Tim is...puzzling. Every time Dick thinks he knows all about his younger brother, the little shit will manage to do something to confuse him again. Dick would say it’s Tim’s talent. He knows he’s observant and he knows he can read people better than most. But Tim is just so, so difficult to fully understand.</p><p>Some days it would take them tearing the house apart to find Tim, and some days it would be impossible to get rid of him as he keeps clinging to one of them. Some days they would have to kick the door down and make the teen eat with both words and physical force so he wouldn’t starve himself, and some days he would just eat everything in the kitchen at once.</p><p>(And then throw up later but we are not talking about that.)</p><p>The point is, Tim is always unpredictable. His actions are impossible to comprehend half of the time, and his brain definitely works in a unique way.</p><p>Dick just wants to understand him enough to keep him somewhat healthy in this mess of everything. </p><p>The boy is now done with both the ice cream and the juice. He looks really tired, however. Alfred is now returning from upstairs with the tray in his hands.</p><p>“Master Tim, I am glad to see you out of your room.” The older man gives Tim a soft smile.</p><p>“And I just got him to eat.” Dick says with some pride in his voice. It is a win for him after all.</p><p>“Thank you, Master Dick. Now off you go! I am cleaning up the kitchen, and the two of you should find somewhere warm to sit.”</p><p>It’s a bit chilly as the year is coming to an end. Dick’s pretty sure his nose has been frozen since this morning so a warm “somewhere” sounds like heaven. But still, Alfred…</p><p>“I can help.” He offers.</p><p>Alfred makes a face as if his words offended him somehow. Well, they probably do. The man never, ever, wants help. Some strange butler rules and stuff.</p><p>“Don’t be ridiculous Master Dick. Take your brother to somewhere warm, and leave these to me.” The butler then shoos them out of the kitchen.</p><p>Dick grabs Tim by the arms and moves the boy upstairs. Guess he’s not going out tonight then.</p><p>“Do you want to go back to your room?” He asks quietly.</p><p>“Hmm. Not really.” Like he said, unpredictable. He really thought Tim would want back in his room. </p><p>“Oookay, where to, then?”</p><p>“I don’t know.”</p><p>Great. It’s up to him then.</p><p>“How about a sleepover?” He watches Tim nod and struggles to stand still. Seriously, how long has he been up? “Alright, let’s go to my room.”</p><p>It takes him almost 15 minutes to get Tim upstairs. The kid keeps almost falling over or falling asleep while walking. This is getting more and more ridiculous by every second. How the fuck does he manage to get himself this sleep-deprived anyway?</p><p>Dick holds Tim up as he opens the door. The kid is already drooling. He should just yeet his brother back in his own room, but he’s kinda lazy right now and Tim<em> should not </em>be this heavy.</p><p>Finally, he’s got Tim under the cover and changed into something comfy for himself. The younger boy would be so peaceful if not for the dark circles that still stand out despite the soft lighting in the room. He fires a quick text to Bruce saying that Tim is in his room, so that the older man would not panic when he can’t find Tim later on.</p><p>He slips under the thick blanket and tousles Tim’s hair gently. The teen is gonna get all the rest he needs.</p><p>“Goodnight bro.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Tim wakes up with a not-headache. Which is strange. Sometimes he sleeps for too much, and he will have a headache. Sometimes he sleeps for too little, and he will have a headache. Sometimes he sleeps in random places, and he will have a cricked neck. It’s kind of the same thing.</p><p>There is this soft noise in his left ear, seeming a bit too much like a snoring sound. Tim shifts in his spot and turns his head a little to see where the noise is coming from.</p><p>Of course, there is <em> Dick </em>ard Grayson next to him. He knows he was acting like he had been high as fuck last evening, but he still doesn’t remember everything. But at least he’s grateful that his brother managed to get him to sleep somewhere proper.</p><p>Tim kicks his legs. They are trapped under Dick’s legs and Tim doesn’t like that. It makes him anxious, and this is way too early in the morning to feel out of it.</p><p>The young genius manages to get his brother’s legs off him and starts wiggling his way out of the cover. One leg out, one to go.</p><p>“T’m?” And Dick has woken up. “You awake?”</p><p>Tim slips out of the cover completely and is hit with the cold feeling of a winter morning. There hasn’t been any snow yet, but it’s still cold nonetheless. He can’t see any bird left on the trees and can hear the wheezing sound of the wind slapping at the windows.</p><p>He fucking hates winter.</p><p>Dick is becoming more and more awake by the seconds. So Tim grabs one of Dick’s sweaters and puts it on. His brother can handle himself. What he needs now is some breakfast.</p><p>The teen quietly opens the door and makes his way to the kitchen, where the wonderful smell of food is coming from. Believe him or not, but he actually enjoys eating. He just doesn’t have time, or the appetite, most of the, well, time.</p><p>But since he’s actually hungry today. </p><p>The boy almost flies down the stairs, feet as light as feathers. Tim starts running as he reaches the end of the staircase, trying his best to not trip and fall face first on the cold, slippery floor.</p><p>He’s really hungry today, and he thinks the smell of food might be a combination of bacon, eggs, and hmm, pancakes. He’s like, starving right now, and he can eat all the food with, maybe a glass of milk, or some apple juice, or…</p><p>“Fuck!” Aaaand he hits his head against something solid. Something that just yelled “fuck”.</p><p>“Ouch.” Tim braces himself so as not to fall onto his butt. A pair of steady hands grab him by his upper arms, which Tim is grateful for.</p><p>“Wow, kid, you’re okay?”</p><p>“Hey, Jase. You’re home today?” He is, honestly, surprised. Jason hasn’t been home much lately. Something to do with Bruce. That, however, is not a surprise.</p><p>“Yeah. Just finished a case.”</p><p>“The drug dealers one? With the vegetable stuff?”</p><p>“That’s the one. Well, I’m gonna head out now. Only here ‘cause Alfie told me to.” His brother says the last part out loud, for obvious reasons.</p><p>“Oh okay. See you around then.” He’s not gonna keep Jason from his books and his brooding, even though Tim still wants him to stay home for a while.</p><p>Tim slips into a seat as Jason picks up a bag of food and walks out. Cass waves at him from the other side of the table, while chewing on her food. Her plate is filled with bacon, two eggs and some carrots. He waves back before leaning over to steal a piece of bacon from Cass.<br/>Almost succeeds. She slaps his hand away.</p><p>“Get your own, Timmy.”</p><p>Tim pouts at her, expecting some sympathy. But nope. Cass points at Alfred, who is cooking and putting some food into a plate. Hopefully, it’s for him.</p><p>“Glad to see you joining us, Master Tim.” Alfred places the plate in front of him, giving him one of those rare smiles.</p><p>“Thanks, Alfie.” He grins back, speaking in a soft voice.</p><p>The food is gone in no time and Dick shows up in the kitchen just as he is putting the plate in the sink. The man ruffles up his hair and pokes him in the side.</p><p>Tim yelps and jumps into the air before slapping Dick’s arm. But oh ho, the <em>dick </em>head just laughs at him and moves on to annoying Alfred. Hmmph!</p><p>Tim gives his brother one last glare and leaves the kitchen. He sees Duke on the way to the staircase. The younger teen looks exhausted, like he has been up all night.</p><p>“You okay?”</p><p>“Oh hey, Tim.” Duke yawns. “Sorry. Just, I pulled an all-nighter. Got an assignment due today. I’m gonna get something to eat, then, go to school.”</p><p>Duke stumbles into the room he just left and Tim is by himself again. He shrugs and finds his way back to his room.</p><p>The room is the same as the last time he saw it. Messy, unorganized, and disordered. His board in the middle of the room, paper sheets scattered everywhere on the floor and on his desk, some clothes bundling up on a chair, and evidence from the case on his bed.</p><p>He kicks some balled up paper away from his door and bends down to pick up some of the sheets. He was really out of it last night, and as a result, he acted completely like an idiot and threw some important paperwork around like they were trash.</p><p>And since he’s a bit less, in Cass’s words, <em> dum-dum </em>today, he’d better clean up a bit.</p><p>Tim pushes his board against the wall and picks up the rest of the paper lying around. He leaves them on the desk. The clothes are thrown into the laundry basket, and the evidence goes back into the case box. He even finds a broom to sweep the floor up (Alfred likes keeping some old-fashioned stuff around and he really doesn’t have the energy for the vacuum).</p><p>Tim looks at his newly-cleaned room. Oh right, one more thing.</p><p>He pushes the window open and lets the morning sunlight stream in. A gentle breeze brings the smell of hellebore flowers into his room and graces him with its coldness. He doesn’t mind it though. The cold makes him less sleepy. Well, as long as it is not too cold.</p><p>Tim looks down from his window. The flowers beneath it have already been watered. He always finds Alfred’s habit of watering plants early in the morning weird.</p><p>The teen snatches a jacket from his wardrobe. If his window is going to stay open, better keep himself warm enough that he won’t be sick.</p><p>The laptop is in his hands now as he makes himself comfortable on the window seat. It won’t hurt to just chill a day. The case is not too urgent, maybe he can take a day off to watch something fun.</p><p>Tim curls up with a soft blanket and keeps his laptop close to him. He doesn’t want to accidentally kick it down the window. </p><p>It’s a beautiful day. He would love it if there were some snow too, but this is good enough. The sky is actually half clear of the clouds, and the sun is visible today. Cold breezes keep blowing by, but the nice aroma of the winter flowers in the garden makes up for all the shivering.</p><p>He hasn’t had such a nice day like this for a long time now. Ever since the weather turned to winter, his days have been gloomy with days on end working on cases in his room and going out at night for “work”. Everyone is busy with their stuff, ordinary, normal stuff, and he only has the vigilante things to focus on. Bruce has taken over the CEO position, Dick is doing some weird police stuff but Tim thinks his brother is working on quitting the job, Cass has a whole lot of ballet-related events for this holiday time of the year, Duke and Damian both have their school work and Stephanie is still trying to survive college.</p><p>So, except for Jason and him, they all have their civilian business to do. But since Tim doesn’t even see him around that much, Jason is irrelevant now.</p><p>Yikes. He wishes he had a drink or some snack now. But he’s too lazy to get up from his seat so he has to deal with no snack then.</p><p>Tim shifts again in his seat. Why is it so difficult to just stay still and snuggle with his blanket? The teen leans over the window a little and something wet drops on his head. </p><p>He puts the laptop aside and cranes his head back to look up.</p><p>“Damian, why the hell are you pouring water down here?”</p><p>“Drake, nice to see you stop acting like a mindless zombie.” Sarcasm, of course. “And I’m not “pouring” water, as you put it. I’m watering my philodendron. It’s not my fault you have a too long of a neck that keeps your head out of the window. Now, keep your head in your room if you don't wish more water on you."</p><p>Pfff, “philodendron”. How fucking pretentious of the kid. Tim let out an annoyed growl before going back to his blanket and laptop. He muses up his hair to get rid of what is left of the water. It’s not much, per se, but still. He finally has a good day in months, he deserves all the peace and quiet in the world, away from Damian.</p><p>Tim resumes the episode. There is a fight scene going on now, but he can’t focus. There is still some water on his head and it’s kinda bothering him. It’s like an itch, keeping his mind off everything else while urging him to do something. Just something different than sitting still.</p><p>There is no thought in his head though. It’s blank, empty, unlike any other time when it would almost overload with voices of his own and others. Who are the others? He doesn’t know. But he knows those voices aren’t his.</p><p>The screen blurs before his eyes. Tim takes a deep breath and blinks fast. But instead of helping him focus better, the world spins around him like he was rolling down an endless hill and the sky burst into million shards of a kaleidoscopic mirror.</p><p>Tim pushes the laptop aside and gets off the window seat.</p><p>This is not happening, he thinks. He finally gets a day off from all the bullshit the world has burdened him, and his mind just decides to play him like this. It’s not fair.</p><p>He knows it’s not Damian’s fault for this. The kid was just minding his business. It’s his head that is messing with him and the few droplets of water are the last straw in this whole train wreck.</p><p>He knows he has always been more sensitive than normal people. Weird noises, too strong smells, bright light, sticky or wet feelings on his skin. Even food makes him want to throw up sometimes. It’s fine though. He can deal with this.</p><p>Or not really because he’s really freaking out now. Tim struggles with his jacket, trying to get it off as it’s slowly becoming suffocating. He swears he does<b> not </b>almost cry when he can’t pull his hands out of the sleeves. But he manages in the end and now the jacket is discarded on the floor. </p><p>The cold air hits him and the hair on his arms all stand up. But this is better than drowning in the jacket, unable to get out, unable to breathe, feeling trapped, bound and restricted.</p><p>Tim presses his back against the wall, taking deeper and deeper breaths and closes his eyes. He’s fine. It’s okay.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> It’s okay. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Remember what you read. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>After a few first times dealing with this, he had looked up how to calm himself down before it turned into a complete breakdown.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Breathe in, hold, breathe out, repeat. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Palms against a smooth surface. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>The wall.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10. Repeat. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> It’s okay. I’m okay. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> In, hold, out. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> The wall. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> 1 to 10. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Everything is okay. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> In…and hold…and out… </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> It’s fine…I’m fine… </em>
</p><p> </p><p>And he forces his eyes open.</p><p>Someone is knocking on his door. Shit! He can’t let anyone see him like this.</p><p>Tim pushes himself up from the floor<em> (when did I sit down?) </em>and rasps out a reply.</p><p>“Hold on for a sec!”</p><p>His hands are still shaking, his legs unsteady and his mind is still spinning like a goddamn wheel. He hasn’t cried though, thank fuck. One good thing out of millions of bad things, right?</p><p>“Hurry up kid, I wanna ask you something!”</p><p>
  <em> Fucking hell, Todd. </em>
</p><p>Tim swallows down the rest of his half-breakdown and opens the door. Slightly. Enough for him to know what bullshit Jason is up to now.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Hey, I just wanna ask if you see my kn-- Are you okay, kid?”</p><p>“I’m good, and I haven’t seen your knives. See you later, Jason.”</p><p>Tim tries to close the door, but his giant of a brother pushes the door back and slips into his room. The man folds his arms across his chest and stares at him intensely.</p><p>“Get out of my room.”</p><p>“Not until you tell me what’s wrong with you.”</p><p>“There’s nothing wrong with me. Now would you so kindly fuck off?”</p><p>“Nope. Stop with your bullshit. I know you. There’s something off, so don’t lie to me.”</p><p>“I’m not fucking lying. Get out of my room.”</p><p>He shouldn’t have lost his temper. If Jason hadn’t been completely sure before, he is now, definitely. Tim groans in frustration and turns away from his brother.</p><p>“Tim, you know you can talk to me, yeah?”</p><p>“I know.”</p><p>“Then please, talk to me. I know I haven’t been around much but I know how you would get this time of the year.”</p><p>“You’ve <em> actually </em> known me for only over 2 years, you <em> don’t know how I would get </em>.”</p><p>“Except I do. 2 winters are enough to know.” Tim feels fingertips brush his shoulder but say nothing. Hopefully, if he doesn’t react, Jason will get impatient and leave.</p><p>He hears a soft sigh before his brother speaks again.</p><p>“Hey, c’mon, you know I won’t judge, right? Like, no matter what you do, I’ll always be the mental one in this house so, no worries.” Jason’s voice is light, almost like he was joking but Tim knows he is not.</p><p>Tim turns around to face Jason. Or face his chin since Jason is much taller than him.</p><p>“Alright, c’mere.”</p><p>A hug should not be enough. It’s a simple thing, with hardly any logical value. But Tim still can’t help burying his face in his brother’s shoulder while cherishing how Jason’s hugs are always so gentle, yet firm. And how he never traps Tim’s arms against his sides.</p><p>Dick and Cass are good huggers, but they sometimes get too excited and he will have to struggle to free his arms from their own. Jason hugs always leave him some space to escape easily if he wants to. </p><p>“I will ask one more. Are you okay, Tim?”</p><p>A pause.</p><p>“No. Not really.”</p><p>“It’s okay. It’s okay to be not okay, you know that, right? Hell, I don’t think anyone in this house is okay.”</p><p>“Not even Alfie?”</p><p>“He always worries about us. Do you think he’s okay?”</p><p>“Hmm, probably not.”</p><p>“Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?”</p><p>“I don’t know.” Tim admits. What he wants now is a mystery to even himself.</p><p>“Well, we can talk about it later if you want to.”</p><p>“Thanks, Jase.” Tim steps away from the hug. “I can help you find your knives. Better get my mind clear a bit.”</p><p>“Sure, why not? Maybe we can sneak some snacks from the kitchen as well.”</p><p>“Do you want to get on Alfred’s blacklist?” Tim laughs softly, opening the door to the hallway.</p><p>“Not really, but it’ll be worth it.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The ghost comes when the weather gets cold and goes when the snow melts away. It stays for a few months but sometimes it’s more visible and sometimes it’s less.</p><p>The ghost eats and sleeps, but the way it does these is so strange the humans in the house can’t understand it sometimes.</p><p>The ghost is quiet, the ghost is quick, the ghost is…unpredictable.</p><p>And the ghost is, to be honest, not okay. It’s unstable and it cares too little for itself.</p><p>But the ghost is loved, and the ghost is cared about. These are all that matters.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em>There is a ghost in the hallway…</em>
</p><p>
  <em>In the bathroom, in the kitchen…</em>
</p><p>
  <em>In his room.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>There is a ghost lingering at the doorstep…</em>
</p><p>
  <em>On the staircase…</em>
</p><p>
  <em>In his bed.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>There is a ghost…</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>END.</strong>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hope you guys enjoyed this.  Kudos and comments are really appreciated. One last thing though:<br/><strong>Happy Holidays to all of you, and Happy New Year!</strong></p><p>(Even though my country officially celebrates Lunar New Year.)</p><p>I'm always available on Tumblr. You can find me at <a href="https://bisexualnerd.tumblr.com/">@bisexualnerd</a>. It'd be lovely to have anyone dropping into my messages or ask box. Or if you need anyone to talk to, don't be afraid to message me. I'd always be happy to help 😃<br/>See ya all later ❤</p></blockquote></div></div>
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